The Thirteenth

Chapter 4

Antebellum Georgia - 1855 (Present)

"Darrell," Richard called from Darrell's doorway. Darrell was laying on his bed with an open book held out in front of his face. Richard could see that he was intrigued in whatever he was reading, but decided to interrupt anyway. "Who's that girl that lives down there in the third hut?"

"Why?" Darrell asked turning a page in his book.

Richard walked in and sat on the edge of his cousin's bed. "I just wanna know."

"The N word, according to you," Darrell answered without taking his eyes off of the page he was reading."What?"          

"That's the same girl you called a Nigger a few months ago. The last time you were here."

Richard stared ahead trying to recall past events. "Really?" Darrell nodded his head. "Oh..."

"Her name's Anita," Darrell sat up and closed his book. He was curious to know if his cousin remembered his childhood best friend. Darrell stared at his face as his mind tried to search through its files and documents for a girl named 'Anita'.

"Anita...Anita," Richard repeated trying to remember the girl.

Darrell sighed and rolled his eyes. "The girl you taught the alphabet to," Darrell stated in exasperation.

Richard released a long "Oh!" of realization. "That's really her?! Lil' Anita?!"

"Yeah, that's really her," Darrell confirmed. "Not so 'lil' no more, now is she?"

"Woah," Richard softly said recalling Anita's face when they had their stare down.

"What?" Darrell asked. He slid the book on the dresser beside him and sat up straight against his wall.

Richard swallowed a big glob of spit down his throat. And hesitated in uncertainty before he said, "She's beautiful."

For the rest of that long week, Anita continued to work hard, and Richard continued to look out his bedroom window at her. Part of him wanted to go out there in the field and start up a conversation. And hopefully try to regain the friendship that they once had. But he'd be stupid to think that she'd want to even look at him after what he'd call her. There was just so much unexplainable hate in him, and he didn't even know why. Hate against what he thought were the Blacks. But some of that hate seemed to reduce in him once he saw Anita again.

Sunday morning rolled around and the slaves went to Adam Wyatt's church for service. Anita had worn her best dress and bathed in the river. After they were all dressed and ready to leave, her, Theodore, and her father walked down to the church they attend every Sunday. Jimmy decided to stay home. When he was asked why, his excuse was that he didn't feel good.

The family stepped through the old church doors and sat on the left side of the church, where all the blacks sat. And on the right side of the church were about three or four small families. And...Richard? Anita looked over in his direction and he smiled. Without making any facial expression, she turned her head back in the direction of the priest.

Church had ended on a good note, and Anita thought that it was a good and well needed service. Pastor Adam was abundantly happy to see his son finally attending his church. It warmed his heart, but he didn't want to speak with him about the subject. Not just yet.

"Hey," Anita heard a voice from behind her say. It was the end of service and everyone stood around and conversed with one another.

Anita turned around to see none other than Richard standing behind her. "Hello," she responded.